


(you're the) devil in disguise

by moahq



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band), bts
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Slow Burn, a bts cameo, not a lot of communication, which could have resolved many issues, yeonjun and soobin are bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26193886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moahq/pseuds/moahq
Summary: 1993, soobin is scouted by wilhemina models and travels to new york to start out his new life. model apartments are never fun, but being forced to live with your rival, choi yeonjun, makes it worse -- and all the things that come with it.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 15
Kudos: 55





	1. hot summer nights

**Author's Note:**

> im using real names in this fic such as wilhemina cooper -- who unfortunately died, too, too soon in the 1980's -- but i am basing her character in the 1990's; so take it with a grain of salt!  
> creative license and everything u know .... anyways enjoy

Seoul came in flashes akin to a film reel, all in ultraviolet and whipping past so fast that Choi Soobin wouldn’t have been able to pick up anything besides bits of foliage and concrete through the train window. New York wasn’t like that though, he learned that very quickly. Sitting in the back seat of a van, windows tinted black on a congested road felt claustrophobic.

“You okay back there?” 

Soobin gestured that he was indeed okay back there even if it wasn’t entirely the truth and stared out at the sky scraping buildings that felt like walls, compressing. Cars honked; traffic moved slow. This was not the world Soobin had grown to know.

But this was the reality of his new life, wasn’t it? Because he was on his way to lock in his contract with Wilhelmina Models and his hands shook slightly at the thought. “How long until we arrive?”

The driver turned to look at him, arms laid casually over the back of the passenger seat, “Next block, my friend.”

_ Oh, next block _ . Now the nape of Soobin’s neck had beads of perspiration clinging to it, and he thought the hot summer was a good enough excuse - it wasn’t because he was anxious, as if he was approaching the final level of a video game.  _ No, not at all _ . 

Suddenly the road was a little too empty, cars moving a bit faster and Soobin wanted the congestion back because how on Earth was he already in front of the building? And why was he stepping out and wishing kind regards to his driver? This is all going too fast.

Soobin looked up at the Park Avenue building; it was short and stout compared to its compeers but intimidating nonetheless. Mark Wahlberg adorned nothing but tighty-whities on a billboard beside the building and it made his heart jump - maybe because he imagined himself in his place.

Gripping his portfolio in stiff hands, knuckles a pale ivory, Soobin mustered up the courage to saunter in. Kind of, it was more of an amble but saying it in such a way made him feel much more courageous. He showed the guards his permit and entered through the revolving doors when given the go-ahead. 

He pushed against the window pane a bit too firmly because the space obviously wasn't big enough for his large frame, and the back of the rotating structure gave him a strong slap across the back of his head. “What the hell?” Everyone was watching him struggle and his cheeks flamed red enough to burn.

Who knew his first adversary in this new city was a revolving door? This was humiliating.

Finally, after much struggle, he escaped the whirling hell and staggered over to what appeared to be the front desk. A blonde woman with teeth that were blanched in a whitening solution the night before smiled back at him, “Are you okay, love?”

Why does everyone keep asking if he is okay? “Yeah, hoping everyone forgets that happened.”

A laugh, “That’s going to be hard.”

Soobin had to politely chuckle in response even if it wasn’t that funny. “Maybe it will work in my favour and everyone will be taken by the clumsy, very attractive male that entered one morning in June. It’s hot, isn’t it? I woke up with my sheets stuck to my body.” Oh, there it was. The anxious word vomit.

“What was your name?” The receptionist looked down at her computer and moved to signal she was ready to use her keyboard, a sign the conversation is most definitely over. “And who are you here to see?”

“Soobin Choi, Choi Soobin -- not quite sure what you have me under. Here to see whoever Wilhemina Cooper is.”

A raise of her eyebrow and yeah, that wasn’t the right thing to say but at this point Soobin had formed quite the unhinged identity for himself and maybe that can be his charm. “Go on right ahead, Soobin. 14th floor.”

And that was all it took for him to scramble away to the elevator that rattled and churned like he was in an industrial factory. The women that all looked a little too reminiscent to Marsha Brady whooped and walloped every time it stuttered. This wasn’t the environment he had expected and his heart beat against his ribs.

When the doors opened, the hallway looked straight out of a Kubrick film. Long and narrow, walls painted in jaunty patterns that felt as though they would close in on you at any second -- and one door plastered in red that stood expectantly at the end. His feet were carrying him before his brain could process the information for itself.

A knock at the door and a beckon and now Soobin was inside the antagonist's lair, the type that you see in the final boss battle. Except Wilhemina Cooper’s office was nothing like that; it was minimalistic in the way an office block in the 90’s would be, white walls with a potted plant that bowed its head in thirst. “Mr. Choi?”

“That’s me,” In a voice a bit too loud for the size of the room. “Soobin is fine.”

He was looking at her now and her eyes tore through him, “Soobin.”

“Soobin.”

She smiled and gestured for him to sit. A light replaced the fire from before, well, he  _ thought _ . He couldn’t really tell under the heavy black paint around her eyes. “I heard you gave my receptionist quite the earache.”

_ Ouch _ . “I tend to do that. I’m not a talker, so when I do it all comes at once and it’s hard to stop.”

Her lips pursed and the purple that stained her lips was sucked into her mouth, “Well, you are here as a model. Talking isn’t really required in this profession, or even encouraged.” Soobin couldn’t tear his focus from her because there was something about her that seemed almost timeless. “Anything you have to say is to be said through the camera, the image.”

Positioning himself toward her, “Well, that’s good to hear.” He looked around the room, attempting to find something to distract himself from her careful gaze, anything. For once he would have rathered a room with a little more vibrancy, because there wasn’t much to look at and now Wilhemina noticed his lack of focus.

“Soobin,” A force. “This job is a lifestyle, this career will eat up any chance of free will you will have and men and women alike are fighting tooth and nail to sit in that seat and speak to me.” A raise of the brow and he felt like he was back in his high school math class. “Why do I see no passion in the way you are looking at me?”

Soobin had to think carefully, he was being analysed and he could see Wilhemina scanning the twitch of his brow, the flicker of his fingers underneath the desk. Honesty is what he decided on, “It was a free trip.”

That was a mistake, he regretted it falling from his lips as soon as they came out -- words falling like torrential rain except it felt like Soobin was standing outside with clothes clinging to him as if they were a second skin instead of hearing the droplets beat against the window from the safety of his house. 

Was that a smile? “I want you signed exclusively to this agency.”

_ Oh,  _ oh. “You want to give me a job?”

“No,” Wilhelmina held herself with grace and poise but there was humour in her tone. “I will be booking your interviews, you will be getting your jobs.”

She then added, “And I believe you will.”

A push of the contract in his direction and this wasn’t real life. Choi Soobin from Seoul who landed the role as an extra in a ramen commercial at best was now about to sign on the dotted line at Wilhemina Models. The agency that housed legendary names like Gia Carangi.

“So, I just sign, right?”

“And read.”

A sigh, “Okay, and read.”

_ This could be commercial, editorial or other. The model is not permitted to sign with any other agency while within these contracts unless express permission has been granted by the mother or specific agency.  _ Yada-yada, Soobin gets it.

It was hard for Soobin to concentrate on the fine print when all that ran through his mind was the thought of himself headlining a Gianni Versace summer collection, maybe a Chanel show if he was lucky. It wasn’t the passion for modelling that pushed him, it was the thought of his name circulating around the city as the next big thing.

Wilhelmina’s voice broke that thought, “We’ve just signed a boy from Seoul. Scouted him just last month.”

Head whipping up, “From Seoul?”

A nod and gesture to keep reading. He did. “I saw a potential in you, Soobin. Don’t let me down because I don’t like being embarrassed.”

His breath staggered and that was a lot of pressure. The pen shook slightly in his hand and he didn’t finish reading before he scrawled his name in bleeding ink across the bottom of the warm printer paper. Soobin hadn’t humiliated anyone in his life so far, what’s the worst that can happen?

“The boy from Seoul, was he already signed with a mother agency?”

“Yes,” Placing the his portfolio underneath the contract and filing it away. “He was more editorial than commercial. You might know of him, he had quite a lot of work amongst the up-and-comers, so I’m rather grateful he chose us.”

Soobin breathed a sigh of relief, the strands of hair that lay flat against his forehead dancing. Maybe he had a new friend. The thought comforted him and it was the first time all day that his shoulders could loosen, Wilhelmina noticed him relax.

“It’s okay, Soobin. You get one free call a week, your family will hear from you.”

He hadn’t noticed how tense he had been, his spine hardened against the wire intestines of the chair he was sat on. “Thank you.”

Wilhelmina Cooper’s face was kind in the way your mother’s is when she is scolding you, she didn’t have soft cheeks or wrinkles that indicated that she had once smiled. But she was familiar, and Soobin couldn’t help but think of his own family back home. “Did you leave your suitcase in the lobby?”

A pause, “No.”

There was only a hint of a smile, but at this point, Soobin would take anything, “It’s okay. I hope your driver left it somewhere convenient for you to pick up.” She reached for the landline, cords extruding from the desktop. “You know about the model apartments, right?”

Soobin nodded, it was one of the most exciting parts of the experience -- well, to him. He just needed friends, fast. “Am I moving in today?” 

“Pick up your luggage from the receptionist and make your way over now, the building is just down the block.”

And, it was over. Soobin had just signed his life over to the most socially relevant modelling agency in the world right now and now he wanted to be on a Calvin Klein billboard on Park Avenue. Getting up was the hardest part, legs unsteady like a fawn and he hoped his new boss didn’t see. Soobin wanted her to see that he could walk, strut even.

It was barely a strut, as he reflected on his exit, because he had tripped over the wire cable that led to the furnace and weren’t models supposed to be graceful? 

“Thank you for your time,” And Soobin was off and running toward that terrifying, terrifying elevator. He couldn’t help but feel giddy and slightly anxious, that was normal. Women smiled at him in the stuttering cab, he smiled back. He couldn’t help it.

The receptionist greeted him warmly with, “Congratulations!” A rolling luggage lurched over to him with a house key and Soobin wondered if they kept all of their house keys -- and did they keep a master key? He didn’t want Wilhemina as a guest in his apartment anytime soon.

Room 47. It sounded like a TLC song and now Soobin wanted to listen to  _ Poetic Justice _ but instead he exited out of those revolving doors and into the summer heat.  5:03, the sun’s burnt orange edges created linear shadows across the New York pavement like tomato soup, maroon singeing the perimeter of the pot. This was when Soobin decided to instead hide in the shadows and made a run for it.

The model apartment wasn’t as luxurious as Soobin had fantasized about, it wasn’t something out of a romance novel. Not grand in size, didn’t have any pillars and wasn’t his idea of the New York life he had seen in film. 

This one was brown hued; but the kind that didn’t seem brown on purpose, like it had been weathered down to the carcass that stood today. He had no choice but to make for the doorand attempt to pull it open without it breaking it off its hinges.

The lobby was as quiet as a ghost town, not what he expected of a complex consisting of young boys. Another receptionist and Soobin winced, “Wilhemina?”

He nodded in response because he decided to take the CEO’s advice, this profession didn’t need words and she didn’t really care for what he had to say, anyway. Rolling his luggage over the tiled floor, Soobin just wanted to get to his room and lay down. That was all he wanted.

So, that’s what he did; or, for better words,  _ made _ to do.

Because he unlocked the door to his apartment and yawned slightly, a breath of tiredness rolled over him like whitewash. Making to cover his mouth, his hand froze in the air. There was a ghost in his house.

Kind of.

It was  _ him _ . He was blonde now and looking right at Soobin as if he, too, had seen an apparition, “You.”

“Me,” He breathed. 

Yeonjun looked older, cheekbones higher and lips bathed in the blood of strawberries and Soobin wondered why that filled him with such annoyance. “You aren’t my roommate, surely,” The venom in his tone made Soobin’s lips lilt in a smile.

“Room 47, Wilhelmina Models apartment building. Park Avenue.” Yes, this was his room.

But, it was Yeonjun’s, too. “ _ Jesus fucking Christ. _ ”


	2. it was the whitewash

It was like a Western -- except, all wrong. Because Soobin was standing in the doorway with a sunken face and without a weapon, nothing to protect him from Yeonjun’s glare. And this wasn’t a saloon; this was his home, and it would be for a long time.

“Can I come in now?”

A roll of Yeonjun’s eyes, “No.”

But Soobin crossed the threshold anyway, rolling his luggage over the cold tile. There was nothing to do but walk past him and figure out the layout of the shoebox he was sentenced to. That’s exactly what it was, the kitchen and living room crammed together and the brick walls didn’t do much for the small size. Soobin was faced with 3 doors. “Have you chosen your room?”

“I’ve been here one month,” Matter of factly. “Of course I’ve chosen a room.”

Everything he says is passive-aggressive and Soobin wasn’t sure he would be able to deal with it. “Well, okay.” He was already feeling the ache in his heart, the not so nice kind that you feel heavy and aching -- he was homesick. Maybe, just maybe, New York wasn’t for him and this was all a big mistake. He didn’t hear the familiar sound of family inside of the walls, instead of the steady sound of cars streamlining outside the windows.

“I’m in the room on the left.”

Shock; was that Yeonjun? He actually said something of use to Soobin and the thought comforted him. Actually, maybe Soobin had judged too soon. Yeonjun might have changed, turned over a new leaf in the 10 seconds it took for Soobin to walk through the apartment. 

“If you step inside my room at any point in time, I’ll cut you.”

_Ah_. There was no change of heart.

Soobin turned to him with a smile, “I see. Any other house rules, king?”

“Are you patronising me?” Yeonjun’s face didn’t crack. The cold demeanour he held was almost comical, like a character out of a movie.

“It’s not that serious, trust me,” Soobin eyed him carefully; tried to see whether this was a bit, like Yeonjun would say he was just kidding and maybe they could live out the rest of their days in this small apartment complex like a sitcom.

A step toward him made a lot of ground, there wasn’t much room in there anyway and Yeonjun’s strides were big enough to make sure they could share breath. Soobin’s back pressed against the wall and Yeonjun was in his face. “I’ll never forget about Seoul. You think you can just follow me here and everything will be okay? Did you think I’d welcome you with open arms? I have rules, if you want to live here with me, you’d better follow them.”

A genuine giggle, “God, if I have to deal with you being angsty for the rest of my stay, I think I’ll just die.”

“Then die.” His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. It wasn’t a joke anymore and the playfulness was replaced with tension. At that moment Soobin knew he was already far away. No matter how near they were, no matter if he could feel his breath hot in his face, the Yeonjun he had once known was gone.

Before Soobin could say anything, the front door creaked open and 3 boys were standing in the hallway peering inside and staring at them both pressed against the wall. “Anyone home?”

Yeonjun pushed himself away and the anger was gone, something akin to happiness taking its place. “Obviously.”

Greeting them with a pat on the back, Yeonjun led them inside and they all collapsed onto the sofa that barely held any room for the 4 of them. Soobin was left standing awkwardly, scratching at the sore that he had picked at last night. The red-haired boy looked at him, smiling faintly, “New?”

“Yeah, something like that,” And now Soobin wanted to run away. Which, he did, in the least graceful manner possible as he turned a bit too fast and now his ears burned a deep ruby. He didn’t want to make eye contact with the other models, no, not now. Dragging his luggage quickly into the room on the _right_ , Soobin shut the door and it felt like 3 days worth of social interaction was just held in 5 minutes.

Exhaustion hit in waves. Looking around the empty room, the sadness he felt reminded him of whitewash against rocks; the ones next to the coast of Jeju where he visited often with his family. He remembered the feeling of crystal blue ocean water crashing against his ankles and the bubbling laughter that came with long summer nights. Soobin remembered how the sunset looked like the melting edges of a tangerine ice cream that would pool in the corner of his lips. 

His bedroom was white and the floorboards were brown and this was not one of those balmy summer nights near the coast. He felt his heart thump like a butterfly's wings, beating bruises that bloomed in violet against his ribs. 

“ _Will you stay with me?_ ”

Soobin just wanted to sleep.

* * *

  
  
  


He didn’t recall falling asleep, but there he was sitting at a 90-degree angle, back against the door as if warding off potential visitors. The knock was light, “Would you like to eat dinner with us?”

His voice was sweet and high and it wasn’t Yeonjuns so Soobin said, “Okay.”

Still rubbing his eyes, Soobin stretched his legs and exited his safe space; now he was faced with 4 boys sitting around a small circular table stuffing bits of Chinese food into their mouths, some pieces not even making it in and instead staining their chin with dark sauce. The one that was around his height turned to him with food still in his cheeks, “Soobin, right?”

He nodded and walked over, sitting on the sofa instead of joining them at the table. There was no room for him and he didn’t want to intrude, especially when Yeonjun seemed to emote anything besides anger. “Do you all live on this floor?”

The one beside him, “Next door. We have the loft so if you want to come over, you can. We know what it’s like to live with Yeonjun.” To which Yeonjun reached over to smack him, a slight smile playing on his face.

It turned his face soft, Soobin noticed. Sharp cheekbones turning into apples and his eyes would form crescent moons. He hadn’t seen it in a while. Yeonjun turned into a kid around these boys in particular, so Soobin decided to trust them. “If I knock on your door at 1 am, you know why.”

They all began to chirp, laughing to themselves and beginning stories about how they first met, Yeonjun breaking their front door off its hinges and the fact that they crowdfunded the repair service. Soobin didn’t eat anything or join their conversation but it felt nice to hear conversation -- the kind where no one tried too hard to keep it going, it just came with ease. He hoped one day he’d be able to talk freely like that, too. Soobin wanted a friend.

After the containers were emptied, they all fell back against their chairs grabbing at their chests. “Too much food.”

“I have a shoot tomorrow”

“Kai, you didn’t tell us that.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

Before they left, the red-haired boy approached him slowly, “I’m Taehyun, by the way. We were serious when we said our door is always open. Beomgyu and Kai like guests, we know it gets pretty lonely around here so don’t feel like a burden if you want to visit.”

Taehyun was kind, Soobin thought. His features took up his entire face, all big and glistening like everything he said was of great importance. He noticed it when he observed them all eating their dinner. Taehyun would ask them the perfect question at the perfect time with such an innocent tone of voice like he genuinely just wanted to know. “Thank you. I will some time. I’ve got an interview tomorrow so I need to have an early night, but thank you for the offer.”

“What are you going for?”

A sigh, “Revlon.”

Taehyun nodded his head and called for who he learnt was Beomgyu. “Do you have any advice for Soobin? Revlon interview tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Beomgyu tapped at his cheek with a playful smile. “They love me over there. Just be charming, just pretend to be endearing and they will eat it up.” Then eyeing him up and down, “They might like you, but they still will like me more.”

Soobin shook his head slightly, confused as to where that came from. “Was this a competition?”

“Technically,” Kai called from his lying position on the sofa. 

Sometimes Soobin forgot that most people in this building were fighting for the same gigs and they all were just as pretty as Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Kai. The mirage of fame and model life was gone now and the reality was that Soobin would actually have to work, work hard. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

And then they were all pushing their big frames through the small hallway and out the door, leaving Soobin with Yeonjun who was now back to normal. “Help me clean this up.”

He didn’t say anything, wordlessly helping him clear dishes and wiping remnants of what could have been his dinner down the drain. Soobin’s stomach rumbled. 

“Are you hungry?” Yeonjun’s question came out genuine, and Soobin had to decipher if there was a hidden plot against him that he wasn’t picking up on.

“No, I’m okay.”

“I wasn’t going to buy anything for you if that’s what you thought.”

Soobin had to stop himself from sighing, “Yeonjun, I didn’t think that.”

“Good.”

And then there was silence, besides the sound of them both scrubbing at paper plates. Soobin didn’t question why they were washing paper, but he imagined they were running on quite a tight budget and, really, he didn’t think he would be eating at home very often anyway. Soobin didn’t think he’d be home at all if he was being honest.

Soobin crossed the compact kitchen and reached up to place the cups in the cupboard above the refrigerator, freezing upon realising he was centimetres from Yeonjun who was now looking up at him with a glare. “You are in my bubble.”

A stutter, “Yeah, I am. Sorry.” Soobin didn’t move though. He couldn’t; not until Yeonjun looked away, but he didn’t.

“Do I make you nervous, Soobin?” 

Yes, he did. “No.”

The downward turn of Yeonjun’s lips turned slightly and now he raised his eyebrow at him, “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Why are your hands shaking?”

Why did speaking to him feel like a verbal dance? Like a spar, or a rubber ball that bounced between them. “Because I’m resisting the urge to hit you.”

“Oh, is that right Winnie the Pooh?”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh, “Winnie the Pooh? Come on.”

Yeonjun was playful and he liked seeing that side of him. “You’re just a tall version of him.”

“I don’t know if that is hurtful or if I’m flattered.”

Yeonjun laughed and threw his sponge in the sink, finally stepping away from Soobin. “I’m going to bed.” And then he was gone, disappearing into his room and leaving Soobin in the kitchen still with an arm in the cupboard. _What just happened?_

Soobin didn’t sleep much that night.

* * *

  
  
  


The next morning, Soobin was up at 5 am and getting ready for 3 interviews. Wilhelmina Cooper was starting him early and he didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. The nervousness didn’t go away, not even while he pushed down the eggs that he made himself for breakfast. The anxiety fades in and out like the sea and he had the urge to back out, but then he remembered he would just have to do this all again another time. It’s either Soobin is sucked into that whirlpool that is all too familiar to him, or he can breathe real slow, letting the thoughts leak into the mild morning air.

Yeonjun was up 5 minutes before he had to go, a tote bag wrapped around his shoulder and a key in his hand. Soobin asked, “Where are you going?”

Aptly, “Revlon.”

Now the egg felt sticky in Soobin’s throat, pushing upwards, “Sorry?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?”

Soobin was sputtering now and maybe it was the nerves but there was spite in his tone. “You aren’t commercial. When have you ever done anything but editorial shoots?”

Yeonjun was smirking now and his lean fingers played with the keys -- Soobin wasn’t a violent person, but he wanted to rip them from his hands and stab him in the forearm. “It’s time for new beginnings, Soobin. Don’t you like to challenge yourself? That’s what I’m doing.”

Soobin didn’t remember standing up but he was, fists tightly clenched at his side like a toddler on the brink of a tantrum. “No. You are stealing this from me.”

His laugh wasn’t the same as last nights, or maybe it was and Soobin just hadn’t noticed. “Look at you, finally standing up for yourself. What are you going to do? Tell me I’m not a nice person?” Yeonjun’s eyes were lit up now and it was too early for Soobin to fight him but he couldn’t help himself.

“Your vendetta against me is childish. Doesn’t being angry at the world all the time eat you up inside?”

If Yeonjun bit his lip any harder he would have drawn blood. “You will never be a model in this industry, I don’t care who you are signed to. If I wanted to watch you fail I would have stayed in Seoul.”

The most he could do was sigh in response, there was nothing he could do about it. His words felt like shallow stab wounds all over his body and he would remember them when he slept that night. “We are going to be late.”

And so they left, walking on either side of the pavement as if they were repelled by each other. If Soobin had known his competition would be Choi Yeonjun, the rising star of New York City, maybe he wouldn’t have dressed in a hoodie and sweats. Why did he look like he stepped off a French défilé de mode when a stylist will just put him in new clothes? He didn’t understand anything about Yeonjun and maybe he would spend the rest of his life deciphering what made up his person.

The warehouse where the interviews were located was only a few blocks away, in which they continued to walk in quiet until they reached the door. Yeonjun kicked it open and entered the large space looking out at the boys that sat in stools, the rest standing against the walls. The attention was on him as soon as his presence was made known and that was Yeonjun’s biggest strength; it just so happened to be at the expense of Soobin.

“Jun! Get over here, you’re late,” The makeup artist was cheery and her face glowed red, he didn’t know if it was the studio lights or the June summer.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” They were hugging now and Soobin stood with his arms crossed around his chest. He wanted to run away and he looked out the window, he couldn’t halt the dawn ebbing its gradual way into daylight and now his mouth twitched. Belonging was never a problem for Soobin, he had his friends back home -- his family was his life. But he didn’t fit in here, not in this space.

He was called to sit and he moved without much thought, limbs not so much connected to his brain. Hands were in his face and products were not layered on sparingly and Soobin realised the hands that he was hugging himself were pinching his forearm. “Sweetheart, you are very pale. Do you need some water?”

His mouth was as dry as the cotton swab she was using to paint the red tint on his lips so his voice came out in a whisper. “No, I’m fine.”

“Someone get me a glass of water!”

Soobin was thankful that he was so easily read as his shaking fingers brought the cup to his lips. From the corner of his eye, he could make out Yeonjun. And so he put down his water and watched.

He hadn’t seen anything like it before, hadn’t seen someone so comfortable in front of a camera -- in front of a hundred crew members and different models. Yeonjun’s expressions were vibrant and he screamed as he posed; bright yells that made the director chuckle and ask for more. Looking at Yeonjun, Soobin understood. Resting on the balls of his feet, he would fall back and create unique silhouettes that looked like they would be on a Vogue cover somewhere in the upper east side. Yeonjun’s body was long and lean and Soobin could imagine him walking a Chanel runway. 

Everyone was drawn to him. Soobin couldn’t help but feel the same. 

A sympathetic smile from the makeup artist, “You’re done.”

“Thank you.”

“Remember, it’s only your first time, don’t be too nervous. Some companies don’t do interviews like this, we just like to see the energy you bring in front of the camera.” She tried to be comforting but that made Soobin’s stomach coil and knot.

“Again, thank you.”

Soobin’s name was called shortly after and he stood in front of the white background with his arms folded; everything was white and how was he supposed to do this? This didn’t feel right.

“Welcome, Soobin. Just try as many poses as possible. Try and feel like the music.”

_Oh Carolina_ by Shaggy was playing and Soobin wasn’t sure what his response should be to that. He tried to move, but his arms were robotic -- mechanical movements that didn’t feel as natural as Yeonjun looked. His feet shuffled slightly around as he tried to stop his face from trembling.

He felt like he was taking a school photo, wearing a tight smile that didn’t look quite right on his face; like he was wearing a mask. Wilhelmina Cooper believed he had potential and Soobin couldn’t help but laugh at the dark humour behind that. He sent a thoughtful apology to here for the disappointment.

The director stepped away from the camera, comforting hands raised as if he was surrendering. “Okay, Soobin, listen. You’re doing great. Just try and maybe relax and take a few deep breaths and tell me when you’re ready.”

Like hail on a glass pane, Soobin’s fingers tapped at his side in attempts to soothe himself. He tried to breathe in and out but it came out in stutters and his throat tightened as the spotlight brightened on him slightly. There was nothing but inky blackness beyond the camera but somehow he could still see Yeonjun standing near with his arms folded, fingers clasping his chin. He was staring at him and challenging Soobin to see what he would do next.

Soobin tried to remember the calm waves that he saw in Jeju, but it was the whitewash again. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m the right fit for you.”

Soobin tried to ignore it, but he could see Yeonjun walking away and back into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the main characters have been introduced .... yes .... soob is my little winnie the pooh ... id like to hear what you think in the comments!! the last chapter was mostly world-building and this one was more focused on character building and defining relationships so after this PLOT wow who would have thought. but anyway hope you enjoyed tehe

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to be chaptered and will be updated once a week!! ive been thinking of this story for a year or two and was going to write vmin but yeonbin suited my characters much better .... [giggles] id love to know what u think!
> 
> also this is basically an introductory chapter so it wasn't my best so thts a bit awkward but the yeonbin dynamic is very fun to write so i hope u keep reading bc this will get interesting!!


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